


this isn’t what it looks like

by skoosiepants



Series: blurbles [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, M/M, Thanksgiving, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-12
Updated: 2016-11-12
Packaged: 2018-08-30 12:01:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8532259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skoosiepants/pseuds/skoosiepants
Summary: for prompt: trapped at the airport on the way home or fighting over the last turkey at the store.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Originally on tumblr for trcunning!

“What are you doing?” The guy looks like a cross between angry and bewildered as he stares at Stiles.  

Stiles isn’t gonna lie, it looks bad.  

“This isn’t what it looks like,” Stiles says, and, okay, he’s gonna lie a little.  It’s definitely exactly what it looks like—Stiles has the turkey halfway out of what has turned out to be Hot, Angry and Bewildered’s cart, cradled to his belly, perched on the metal rim.  The problem is that Stiles hadn’t been quick or stealthy enough, and the guy had the very last turkey in the entire store in his cart; if he hadn’t wanted it to be stolen, he shouldn’t have left it all by its lonesome in the cereal aisle.

“It looks like you’re stealing my turkey,” the guy says. His magnificent eyebrows are flat and murderous, but Stiles detects just the tiniest bit of amusement around his mouth.

“No, see, I was just, uh,” Stiles carefully leverages the turkey back into the cart, “checking to see how big it was?  For research purposes?”

“Research purposes,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest.  It’s an impressive chest.  Stiles has maybe grown into his frame now that he’s well into his twenties, but if push came to shove, this guy could probably destroy him with a well-placed pinky.

“Yeah, you know,” Stiles bounces on his feet, “it says it’s sixteen pounds, but it doesn’t really  _look_ like sixteen pounds, so I had to take a closer look to be sure. For you.  So you know you’re getting the size as advertised.”

“Right.” It’s unflattering how much this dude obviously doesn’t believe a word Stiles is saying, Stiles is a champion bullshitter, here.

Granted, this isn’t his best stuff—Stiles is desperate and the guy has this whole hot and terrifying thing going for him, Stiles doesn’t know whether to cut and run or try to ask him out.

“Look,” Stiles says, “is there any way I can get you to share this turkey with me?” Melissa will kill him for forgetting the turkey— _again_.  Why do they keep assigning the turkey to Stiles when he never actually remembers to get it until the last possible minute?  That should be a lesson, this isn’t Stiles’s fault, this is everyone else’s.

“Are you—” the guy loosens his stance, arms falling to his sides and mouth softening in surprise, “Did you just invite me to dinner?”

Stiles opens and closes his mouth, because while that hadn’t been his original intent, that’s pretty much exactly what he’s done, right?  Huh.  Instead of answering one way or the other, he reaches out a hand and says, “Hi, I’m Stiles.”

He says, “Derek,” and his grip is warm and firm, and Stiles maybe holds on too long, but can anyone blame him?

Stiles sighs and says, “So I was thinking about stealing your turkey.”

“Thinking about it?” Derek says.  He tightens his hand around Stiles when he halfheartedly tries to pull away, so at least Derek is aware of all the inappropriate hand-holding going on.

“In the process of,” Stiles says.  "I would have only done it if you hadn’t caught me.“

"That—” Derek laughs.  His whole face lights up with it, like sunshine, and Stiles says, “You know what, I really am inviting you to dinner, that would be perfect,” and Derek just laughs harder. 

He lets go of Stiles’s hand to try and stifle the last of his goddamn giggles, how is this person real?

Stiles shoves his hands in his pockets and grins at him like an idiot.

Finally, Derek composes himself enough to say, “I have to feed my sisters with this turkey, but it was a good try.”

Stiles flails a little and says, “Oh, but I—”

“It was nice meeting you, Stiles.  I think,” Derek says, before pushing his cart away.

Stiles stands there with his mouth open, watching him walk away.  That… did not go how he thought it was going to go. Crap. And he still has to find a turkey.


End file.
